


even when she's next to me

by cynical_optimist



Series: brave face talk so lightly (spy au) [2]
Category: Lovely Little Losers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Implied/Referenced Violence, Long-Distance Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5854750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_optimist/pseuds/cynical_optimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their fingers brush as Paige hands Chelsey a shirt, and suddenly she has dropped it and is holding her girlfriend’s hand in both of her own.<br/>“Promise me,” she says, “that if I don’t come home, you’ll be alright?”</p><p>-<br/>Paige leaves, and Chelsey copes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even when she's next to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niuniujiaojiao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niuniujiaojiao/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Crystal! You asked for chelsaige, angst, and a happy ending, and I have delivered on at least two of those points. Have an absolutely wonderful day, lovely <3
> 
>  
> 
> Title from "She" by Dodie Clark.

The best part about working in the medical wing, Chelsey has found, is the stability. There is always work to do, always in the same place, always with the same people. Sure, there are lulls of boredom, but they’re better than the short bursts of chaos when bigger missions fail terribly and the medical staff are left to clean up the mess. There is no danger hanging over her head, no fear that, one day, either she or her girlfriend, Paige, won’t come home.

 

( _The first night, Chelsey lies in their bed, only a cat and her fear for company. The pillows still smell like Paige, but she needs to wash the cases, soon, and that thought, of all thoughts, is the one that makes her throat and eyes burn. She remembers, clutching tight a wet pillow and a squirming cat, that there was a time she did not fear, and an aching sort of nostalgia grows vines through her airways and scrapes thorns around her heart. It was a lovely idea, once, a very pretty one filled with optimism, but now it tastes like iron on her tongue._ )

 

The patients are lovely, too, when they’re not trying to sneak out of the ward to get to their missions. Stupid, self-sacrificing spies. She leaves those to Costa, who has this strange way of talking that confuses and convinces and inspires. He’d be dangerous as an enemy, she and Paige have both realised, if only he didn’t care so much about every person that passed through their doors.

“You know,” he says one day, as they enjoy lunch break together, “of all the jobs in our agency, ours is actually the most important.”

Chelsey smiles. “Really?” she asks, even though she and Paige have a variation on this rant a hundred times before. Paige elbows her softly, and Chelsey bites back a giggle.

“Of course!” Costa waves his fork dramatically, looking as though he’d like to jump on the table. “We are the reason so many of them can fight! We are the reason they can go home every day, why they feel safe to risk their lives like that! We save people without ever hurting another!”

“It’s a good job,” Paige agrees. “Very safe, too.”

Costa hums in agreement. “Would be nice to get some action, sometimes. Fight for the glory of the most glorious New Zealand.”

 

( _“I think I might sign up for a field mission,” Costa says, and Chelsey’s lungs turn to ice. “Just to see what it’s like. You know, test the waters, spread my wings. Be—”_

 _Chelsey stands and leaves the room; she’ll have to apologise to him later. Glory, he’d said. No one ever thinks of those that are left behind._ )

 

“I quite like being safe here,” Chelsey sighs, and leans into Paige’s shoulder. Paige pecks her softly on the lips. “Anyways, lunch break is over. Time to save lives, once again.”

They gather up their lunch things together, and Chelsey thinks, _this is enough_. This peace is enough. This love is enough. This life is enough.

She has a small apartment and a cat with Paige, and it is perfect in its cosiness, in its subtle blend of her and Paige, in the way that the pillows smell like her girlfriend and in the silly pigeon pictures plastered all over their walls. Sometimes, on their days off, they go on walks in the park and sit under trees and laugh together, and sometimes they stay in. They are cliché and sickeningly sweet and Chelsey loves every minute of it.

This life is enough.

Then, one day, Paige, who is on a later shift than Chelsey, isn’t home an hour after her shift ends.

 _Director wants to talk to me_ , she texts her, _Not sure what time I’ll be home. Love you._

 

( _A list of things she should have done, written by Chelsey Long on a night that Skype won’t work and she want nothing more than to see her girlfriend’s face:_

_She should have known, then._

_She should have realised in that moment._

_She should have told Paige to come home anyway._

_She should have changed shifts and stayed with Paige._

_She should have convinced Paige to run away with her._

_She should have done the impossible_.)

 

Chelsey eats dinner, washes the dishes, feeds the cat, and decides to wait for her on their tiny couch, just in case something is wrong. The house is warm, and familiar, and she’d been on her feet the entire day, and she closes her eyes for just a moment, just to rest them, and—

“Hey,” Paige is whispering, nudging her softly, breath warm on her cheek. “Did you try stay up for me, darling?”

She murmurs in agreement, blinking. “Hey,” she sighs, reaching up to hug Paige. Her shoulders are tense and trembling and fragile. “What did the director want? Is something wrong?”

Paige shudders, and presses her nose into Chelsey’s shoulder. “There’s a mission,” she says, voice muffled. “I don’t know where. It’s confidential.”

“A mission?” Chelsey asks, and her heart skips. She sits up, and Paige sits with her, face still tucked into the crook of her neck. “So, like, we’ll have a few more patients over the next few weeks?”

Paige shakes her head, hair brushing Chelsey’s cheek.

Chelsey’s fingers tighten in the fabric of Paige’s shirt. “Please don’t…” She takes a deep breath, steadying. “Have you—have you been assigned somewhere?”

“I’m sorry,” Paige sobs, tears soaking into Chelsey’s collar. “I tried to say no, but they need a doctor, they _need_ me, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t change the director’s mind.”

 _It’s not your fault_ , Chelsey wants to say. _You can’t change an assignment. We knew there was a chance of this happening. Don’t worry_. The words stick bitterly on the back of her tongue. “I love you,” she manages instead, carding a shaking hand through her girlfriend’s hair.

Paige holds her tighter, and they stay there until both their tears stop.

“When do you have to leave?” she asks, voice raspy.

 

( _“When are you coming home?”_ )

 

“Monday,” Paige answers.

 

( _“I don’t know, baby. I’m sorry.”_ )

 

Chelsey nods. Monday she can work with. Monday is a set moment in time, a constant. Monday is something to dread and fear, but at least it is solid.

“We should get to bed,” Paige sighs. “We both have shifts tomorrow, come on.”

“Okay,” Chelsey breathes, and lets herself be led to their room.

The next day, Costa gives them both a look of pity. “I’m to be promoted,” he says. “Temporarily. I – I really do hope that—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Paige says with a bright smile, fingers wrapped tightly around Chelsey’s. “I’m just going to see family for a bit. Chelsey’s staying here to hold down the fort.”

“Ah,” Costa hums. “I was understandably terrified that you’d been fired, but that’s good. Very good. I’m glad you’re not fired.”

 

( _“So, how is Paige? I haven’t heard from her in, oh, a few days?”_

 _Chelsey forces a smile. “Great. Apparently her cousins have been_ **_so terrible_ ** _to deal with, though.”_ )

 

“No, don’t worry,” Paige assures him. It’s a lie. Chelsey wonders, absently, just how much she’ll be lying while Paige is away. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Chelsey leans into her, holding onto her hand just as tightly.

“Alright, alright,” Costa mutters. “I had something to do…” He runs off in the other direction, yelling something about well wishes and hugs.

 

( _“I just miss her so much,” she sniffles into Costa’s shoulder. “And I don’t even know if she’s coming home.”_

 _“_ **_Of course_ ** _she’ll come back to you, Chelsey. She_ **_loves_ ** _you.” Costa shifts, accidentally knocking Chelsey away. “Oh no. Oh no, no no, did you two have a_ **_fight_ ** _?”_

_“Yes.” The lie rolls of her tongue with ease, and she hates it. “I just… I want her home, with me.”_

_“Talk to her! Proclaim your love for her! There’s no way Paige won’t return to you, as long as she knows she’s wanted.”_

_Chelsey nods. “There’s no doubt in my wanting her back,” she says, and she thinks,_ **_but it might not be our choice_ ** _._ )

 

They spend all the time they can together, and they do not pretend, amongst themselves, that they are happy. Paige records some of her music on Chelsey’s phone so that she can listen to it in the long hours between their calls. They clutch at each other and cry a little and try to imagine what it will feel like to not have the other with them indefinitely—Chelsey thinks, terrified, _maybe even eternally_ . Doctors are not supposed to go on suicide missions to retrieve missing agents, no matter what. Doctors are supposed to stay at home and smile at Chelsey over dinner and kiss her deeply when they are alone and _come home at the end of shifts._ Doctors are supposed to be safe.

“I’ll miss you,” Chelsey whispers one night, to Paige’s closed eyelids. “I’ll miss you so, so much.”

Paige’s eyes crack open. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Me, too, honey.” She pulls her girlfriend closer, kissing the top of her forehead.

Paige’s suitcase stays stubbornly under their bed, empty.

 

( _Paige sighs, the sound rustling through the terrible internet connection. “I love you,” she says. “And, when I get home, I’ll ask you to marry me.”_

 **_When_ ** _. “I’ll say yes,” Chelsey replies. “Or you could ask now?”_

 _Paige scoffs playfully. “Over_ **_skype_ ** _?” she gasps. “Never. I’m going the whole nine yards, babe. Flowers, ring, fireworks, band playing in the background.”_

_“Where?” Chelsey prompts, chest aching._

_Paige hums in thought. “Maybe the beach? Or the forest? Somewhere beautiful, just like you.”_

_Chelsey giggles wetly. “I love you.”_

_“I love you, too.” There’s murmuring in the background of the call, and Paige turns to someone offscreen. “I have to go now, Chels. I’ll talk to you later.”_

_“Yeah,” she agrees. “Come home to me.”_

_Paige smiles. “Always.”_ )

 

Sunday morning, they stay in bed late and then order pizza for lunch, because neither can be bothered to cook and they’ve decided not to leave the house.

“You and I both know just how unhealthy this is,” Paige says around a bite of pizza. “This is so bad. We are terrible medical professionals.”

Chelsey giggles. “Well, yeah,” she agrees. “But at least it tastes good.”

Paige shrugs, smile playing on her lips and in her eyes. For a moment, neither of them think about Paige leaving, about the chance that Paige might not come home.

Chelsey kisses Paige, and both of them taste like pizza, and they are happy.

 

( _Chelsey is happy. She goes to work and she goes to the park and she watches that movie she’s been looking forward to and she doesn’t feel like bursting into tears when she walks in the door. She misses Paige, sure, but she is a perfectly functioning human on her own. The constant fear that something might happen, that Paige might get hurt, is starting to ebb, after so long. She’ll be fine._

_And then, one night, Paige misses a call._

_Chelsey falls asleep next to her computer, waiting, and when she wakes up there is still nothing from Paige. She goes to work, smiles at Costa, makes small talk to patients, and pretends worry and fear are not scratching under her skin._

_She gets home, and still there is nothing. She cannot call the agency; she is not supposed to know there is a mission in the first place. She is supposed to believe the same lies they have fed to everyone else who knows Paige. She is not supposed to feel like everything she’s known in the past few years is falling apart around her head, leaving her alone in the rubble._ )

 

Paige and Chelsey pack the night before Paige has to leave, and they cannot pretend that she is just going away for a few days. They cannot pretend that there is a certainty they will see each other again.

Their fingers brush as Paige hands Chelsey a shirt, and suddenly she has dropped it and is holding her girlfriend’s hand in both of her own.

“Promise me,” she says, “that if I don’t come home, you’ll be alright?”

“Paige…”

“Please,” Paige begs. “All I want is for you to be happy. Move on from me. Find joy in having five hundred cats and just the right flavour of tea, or find another girl to settle down with. Go-- go to a coffee shop and ask out the pretty barista that writes silly names on your cup, or ask out someone from IT, or use some terribly cheesy pickup line on someone in the club. Be happy.”

Chelsey takes a deep breath, ignoring how it catches, and nods. “Okay,” she says, staring at their hands. “I can’t-- it won’t be right away. But I’ll be happy, one day.”

Paige smiles, a little mournfully, and presses her lips to their conjoined hands. “That’s all I want,” she says, then, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Chelsey sighs. “But, please, promise me you’ll do all you can to come home?”

“Of course I will.”

But it’s out of their hands, Chelsey knows, and the knowledge makes her heart ache.

 

( _Two days pass without word from Paige. Chelsey feeds the cat and feeds herself and works and cries herself to sleep at night. She wonders whether the agency will even inform her, or if she’ll just be left in this tortuous limbo of fear and pain and hope she should not allow herself to feel. She listens to the recordings of Paige’s music and cries and tells Costa she is too sick to work. She remembers her promise to Paige and hopes she never has to act on it but knows she probably will._

 _Then, on the third day, she gets a message._ **_Coming home. Love you._ ** )

 

They catch a taxi to the airport, and they spend the ride in each other’s arms, each hoping desperately and trying not to cry. The driver pretends not to look.

“I’ll miss you,” Paige says, as an agent pretending to be a friendly stranger collects their luggage.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Chelsey looks at the agent, remembers what she is supposed to believe. “Have fun at your mum’s, though. Say hi to her for me?”

“Will do.”

They kiss softly, once, twice, then Chelsey kisses Paige on the cheek and whispers, “Come home to me?”

 

( _On the fifth day, Chelsey arrives home from work, pets the cat, and looks up._

 _Paige is standing there._ )

 

“I’ll try my best,” Paige whispers back, and doesn’t let go of her.

 

( _She’s injured, Chelsey notices suddenly, holding herself gingerly, cradling a slinged arm, the soft lamp in the corner casting light on the bruises on her cheek._

_“I’m sorry,” Paige says. “I’m so sorry. I tried to contact you, but--”_

_“You’re here,” Chelsey breathes. “You’re alive.”_ )

 

Paige finally releases her, and there are tears in both of their eyes. “I love you,” she says.

Chelsey swallows back the lump in her throat. “I love you, too.”

 

( _“Mostly,” Paige answers, and Chelsey’s legs move of their own accord, and they are both crossing the small room, and then they are in front of in each other, close enough that their breaths are mingling, close enough to_ **_touch_ ** _, and Chelsey does_.)

 

Paige squeezes her hands, and presses  their lips quickly together again, then steps back, letting Chelsey’s hands drop.

“Goodbye,” Chelsey says, the words distorted through her tears.

“Goodbye, darling.”

 

( _Chelsey’s fingers trace the bruise on her girlfriend’s cheek, then slides into her hair. She’s real. She’s here._

_“Hi,” she whispers, and it comes out half a giggle. Both their cheeks are wet._

_Paige makes a sound that’s half a laugh and half a sob._

_“Hi, darling_.)


End file.
